Nobody's Made of Ice
by Gildaurel
Summary: Jisa/Treven need help with Council matters and disturb Vanyel on his night off. Total fluff. All characters belong to Mercedes Lackey. Reviews welcome!


Jisa rubbed her eyes wearily and met Treven's gaze across the table. The Council meeting had adjourned, but the two of them were still looking over the notes from Valdemar's spies in Karse.

"We need Vanyel," Treven said finally, holding up two contrasting reports. "He's the only who knows where Kera and Fedar are, exactly, and why their information would be so different."

Hesitating, Jisa replied, "But tonight is the _only_ night he doesn't come to Council. Once a week. And he still works the entire day… I would hate to bother him. It's what the King—Father— used to do, use him past his endurance. Even Van needs a break."

"I know," Treven sighed. "I wouldn't say it if we could figure it out on our own. This could be important, though, and he'd want to know."

"All right," Jisa said, a bit doubtfully.

"Are you worried about something else?"

"Trev... you aren't—you wouldn't be offended—"

"Oh," Treven let out a small chuckle. "You're worried I'm going to go white if I see him with another man? Jisa. Vanyel is the _first_ Herald-Mage in the circle. You realize I respect him more than essentially anyone else. I have no problem with anything he does, anything about him. Although, from what I've heard the past two years—or rather, not heard—he's about as likely as the Archbishop to be entertaining company."

With a resigned sigh, Jisa gathered the papers. "All right, let's go to his rooms." _I, for one, _know _that Van won't be alone…_

They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they reached the hallway with Van's room at the end, Treven finally spoke. "I've never actually been to his rooms, did you know that?"

"I'm not surprised," Jisa replied with a slight smile. "He's not big on after-hours company. When you've spent that much of your life alone, you start to love solitude."

Shaking his head, Treven remarked, "You know, people think he's so lucky to be so powerful, so important, so brilliant… but it seems like all it does is isolate him utterly and completely."

Then, as they neared the door—relatively distant from its neighbors'—Jisa heard, heart sinking, two male voices, one high and one low, murmuring._ I_ _knew it._ Treven shot her a quizzical look. She shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips. _I don't want to interrupt anything—Van has always been_ _hair-triggered. Who know how he might react if he's—if we disturb—_

A deep chuckle, then, and a tenor voice:  
>"Gods, Van, don't stop <em>now<em>." Muffled breathing and a sharp cry of pleasure.

Jisa put a hand on Treven's shoulder, stopping him from his unwitting walk forward. Beet red, he fumbled with the papers in his hands. "I, um, I didn't realize—is that _Stefen's_ voice?"

She had to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation. "Yes, love. I was fairly certain he would be here—they're together, now, you know. Since Van went home, they haven't been apart."

Treven turned a shocked look on her. "He's very discrete—" then stopped as Jisa cocked her head to the door and choked down a laugh. "Well, in Court he is!" he exclaimed lamely.

Then, as she had been expecting since the moment she crossed his shields, she felt the Mindtouch, as familiar as breathing—

:Jisa?: His Mindvoice was surprised and colored mellow rose with happiness.

:Sorry Father: She Sent back, slightly embarrassed and regretful. :I didn't mean to bother you on your night off.:

Humor and similar embarrassment. :I'll get dressed, hold on.:

She couldn't resist. :Make sure Stef is dressed too, will you? I think Trev's had enough of an introduction to your private life already tonight.:

Laughter, then, and an amused :I'll try to get him into something.:

When he broke contact with her, Treven was staring at her with a silly grin.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, still a bit nervous about his reaction to the situation.

His smile widened. "Oh, just that the great Herald Vanyel isn't made of ice! I would _love_ to know just how Stefen cracked through that iron shell."

She smiled back at him and took his arm. _How could I ever have thought Trev would be prejudiced? He isn't like that, he's so happy for people._ "I believe, as Stefen described it to me, with endless, exhaustive patience."

"He told you about it? And you never shared?"

"It wasn't mine to share." She leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. "But I'm glad you know; now we can gossip together! Well. Since we've already disturbed them, we might as well get on with it." She moved to knock on the door, but Vanyel opened it under her hand, looking far more relaxed than usual in a soft gray tunic and breeches. His hair was mussed and his eyes a limpid silver. Behind him, Stefen was attempting to seem engrossed in his lute, tuning it and retuning it.

Jisa burst out laughing. "Oh, Stef, come off it, we could hear the two of you from the Council chamber."  
>Vanyel raised his eyebrows and shot her an amused look. "I doubt it, dearheart. I have shields up, you know. The only way you heard anything was if you were already inside them."<p>

"Mmm," Treven chimed in. "We must have been inside them then."

At that, Vanyel flushed a bit, and studiously avoided catching Treven's gaze. He was used to joking with Jisa, knew she loved him unconditionally, but Treven was still a bit of a stranger. "Oh, you were, were you?" Stefen drawled, putting the lute aside, and looking mischievously at Vanyel. "Lucky you, then."

Jisa rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Stef."

Casting a blushing look at Stefen, who was clad only in one of his castoff tunics., Vanyel broke in. "Well. That's that, and what's done is done. What brings you here?"

Treven pulled up a chair to the table and placed the two differing reports on it, side by side. "These reports at Council tonight. They don't add up. Kera's, which Joshe got from Mindspeaking her as she fled Karse, reports dire danger and a political tinderbox. Fedar's, on the other hand, implies that there's nothing to worry about; he essentially calls this 'a minor political disturbance', restrained to the city and not touching the provinces where he's stationed."

Vanyel frowned and pulled up a second chair before shooting a concerned look at Stefen. "This might take a minute,_ ashke_, do you want to stick around?"

"Of course," Stefen replied, putting the lute aside and moving to stand behind the Herald. He placed both hands on Vanyel's shoulders and began to massage gently. "I want to be wherever you are."

Flushing, Vanyel looked hesitantly into Jisa and Treven's eyes. "This… doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Van." Jisa shot him an exasperated glare. "Does it bother you that Treven holds my hand?"

"No, but—"

:Don't be ridiculous, Father. We're happy for you.:

He smiled, then, and relaxed under Stefen's touch. "All right, then, let me look at these for a moment. I know Kera and Fedar relatively well, so I should recognize anything that seems amiss."

After a moment, he frowned, tracing a finger over one passage. "Fedar shouldn't be there." Then, imperatively, "Fedar was _never_ there."

"But— it was a relay, from another Herald. By MindSpeech. Said she spoke to him herself. She couldn't have lied."

Face growing grim, Vanyel shook his head. "Whoever was in Fedar's uniform wasn't him. Find out what the man she saw looked like, whether she'd ever seen Fedar before, and get the rest of our operatives out of there _now_. I know they have orders to go already, but they need to know someone's onto our network. I'll Speak who I can—there's only three still there, and none near so far as Kera was. Jisa, you're a stronger Mindspeaker than Treven, you take the one closest to the Border. I'll take the other two."

Silence, then, as Vanyel and Jisa stared blankly into space. Treven caught Stefen's eye, distracting him from his anxious hovering over Vanyel.

"A drink, Stef?" He said, holding up the mostly full pitcher of wine.

"Please," Stef said. "They always bring it with dinner, but neither of us drinks, much—" he broke off and a small smile played across his lips.

Treven cocked an eyebrow. "Is something funny?"

"Just… the first time Van and I had dinner. We got absurdly drunk by accident; neither of us noticed the wine disappearing." His smile widened. "Van especially. He wound up sleeping on the floor."

Laughing, Treven raised his glass. "Who would've thought? To drunken first meetings!"

Now it was Stefen's turn to regard Treven curiously. "Oh? Did you have one such meeting with dear, proper Jisa?"

"You have no idea. It was one of those awful Court functions—presenting me as the heir, and such—and we'd both drunk way too much simply to alleviate boredom. I'd only met her once before, but I couldn't take my eyes off her this time. I felt right, so right with her, like I'd finally come home. Apparently she felt somewhat the same, for she let me corner her behind that ridiculous bust of Baron Valdemar—"

"I know just the one!" Stefen exclaimed, taking a long drink.

"—yes, it's horrid. Well, she let me kiss her with _that _for a background, so I presumed she must like me, at least a little. The rest is common gossip and knowing you, you've heard it and retold it."

Stefen gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Too true. I only wish I could gossip more about this every now and then—" he shot a look at Vanyel, whose eyes were still glazed over, "—because sometimes, it'd be nice to talk about it with someone _besides_ the one sharing my bed and my problems."

"I know," Treven replied, shaking his head. "Jisa is the best friend I ever had, but even we have our quarrels, and there's precious few I trust to speak to about _us_. Jisa's always had Van, you know. She's gone to him with every problem for as long as I've known her."

Eyes softening, Stefen looked over at Vanyel. "He's a good listener. You know, the first few months, all we did was talk. For hours and hours, about everything. He wouldn't do anything else—he was so worried about rumors, about me, about letting go even the slightest bit. But somehow, just talking with him was better than anything I ever had with anyone else. Even when I thought I'd go mad from frustration."

"Who's going mad with frustration?" Vanyel asked mildly, eyes wide open and looking at Stefen with a rare twinkle.

"Nobody anymore," Stefen replied cheekily.

Vanyel rolled his eyes dramatically. "Don't let him moan to you, Trev; he's a master embellisher."

Then Jisa opened slightly weary eyes, raised her head, and laughed weakly. "Well, Van, you're a master simplifier. It's nice to hear someone overdo it once in a while."

Chuckling, Vanyel reached out a hand to touch hers. "Did you reach them?"

"Yes, with a bit of effort. You?"

"I did. They were already under the same orders as Kera to get out, but now they'll hurry more. We don't want another Fedar."

"What do you think happened to him?" Jisa asked, concerned.

"Taken," Vanyel replied shortly. "If he were dead, the Death Bell would've rung." Sighing, he rubbed his forehead wearily. "I wish I could do something—"  
>Stefen laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Stop, <em>ashke<em>. You can't be a thousand places at once. You'll deal with it tomorrow, first thing."

Favoring him with a sweet smile, Vanyel nodded. "You're right, you know that?" He looked ruefully at Jisa and Treven. "He's always right."

Jisa laughed. "Oh, Van, you must be in love! I can't recall the last time you said that about _anyone_."

With a chuckle, Vanyel stood and helped her up. "True."

Teasingly, she asked, "True, you're in love, or true, you can't recall the last time you said that?"  
>As he led her and Treven to the door, he smiled at her. "Oh, I am most definitely in love."<p> 


End file.
